Kathy Betcher
So sorry to hear about Jason, Auntie Betty. Even though I'm not there, know you're in my thoughts...
From Shu Ting, a Chinese poet:
my dream is the dream of a pond not just to mirror the sky but to let the willows and ferns suck me dry. i'll climb from the roots to the veins, and when leaves wither and fade i will refuse to mourn because i was dying to live.
my joy is the joy of sunlight. in a moment of creation i will leave shining words in the pupils of children's eyes igniting golden flames. whenever seedlings sprout i shall sing a song of green. i'm so simple i'm profound!
my grief is the grief of birds. the spring will understand: flying from hardship and failure to a future of warmth and light. there my blood-stained pinions will scratch hieroglyphics on every human heart for every year to come.
because all that i am has been a gift from earth.